The Grey Knight of Skyrim
by Fanofallthethings
Summary: A Nord returns home to chaos and despair. To survive he must seize the reins of destiny and change the world forever. Modded Skyrim. T for gore and violence, might go up eventually depending on how dark I decide to make this.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One - Awakening**

My head was pounding like an orc on a war drum when I regained consciousness. Why I was unconscious in the first place, I had no idea. I didn't think it was a hangover, I've had plenty of those in my nearly one hundred years of life and this hurt way worse than any of those. Honestly, it felt the most like being kicked in the head by a horse. Unfortunately I did know what that felt like, thought that's a story for another time. In any case, once I managed to straighten out the mangled thoughts in my pounding head, I realized that part of the reason I felt like my brain was bouncing off the sides of my skull was because it was. I sat in a rocking cart, the wooden wheels and total lack of suspension causing us to bounce and be thrown around by every bump and crack in the road. I looked around, trying to get my bearings. The cart was driven by an Imperial soldier in light armor. There were three others in the cart: the first was a blonde-haired, blue-eyed Nord dressed in a blue tunic with chainmail over it. The second man was another Nord, dark-haired and dressed in rags. The final man was dressed in fine furs and, unlike the rest of us, gagged.

I had been away from home for more than thirty years, but even I could figure out what was going on. The man in front of me was wearing the de facto uniform of soldiers of the Stormcloak rebellion. The driver and rear guard for our little convoy both wore Imperial armor. I had been captured in a skirmish between the two sides of the bloody civil war that had torn my homeland in two. Well, wasn't that wonderful. I suppose that's what I get for coming back to my own country to take care of selling my late sister's property. Fucking idiots. You spend thirty years killing Thalmor and their lackeys, and your thanks is getting caught in a fight between two groups that would happily have helped you out in the fight. I decided I might as well find out what exactly was going on. "You, Stormcloak," I said. "What's going on here?"

He glared at me, probably annoyed at the bluntness of my address. He was a Nord. He'd get over it. "We're on our way to die, kinsman," he said after a moment's deliberation. I stared at him flatly, obviously waiting for more information. He huffed, then continued. "Our patrol was at Darkwater Crossing when these Imperials attacked. Killed most of our men, captured the rest. They're taking us somewhere to execute us now."

This raised more questions. "Summary execution?" I said. "That's not very… Imperial."

"General Tullius, the military governor, knows that there's no way he could carry out a trial for Ulfric Stormcloak without being attacked."

"Ulfric!?" I yelped, and the Stormcloak cut a glance at the gagged man next to me. I turned to him and inclined my head. "Apologies, my jarl. I did not recognize you," I said.

"And why would you recognize the Jarl?" the Stormcloak demanded.

"Red Ring," I responded. The Stormcloaks face instantly became far more somber.

"Apologies, kinsman," he said. "Almost everyone in Skyrim has family that fought or died in the fighting for the capital. Are you just now returning to Skyrim?"

"Aye," I said. "I've been ferreting out spies and saboteurs on the Valenwood and Elsweyr borders since the war ended. I was only coming home to deal with some property left to me a few months ago."

"A sad tale, friend," he said. "They wouldn't listen to us when we said you weren't one of ours. Seems they didn't appreciate a heavily armored Nord with a great whacking sword riding into the middle of their ambush. We thought you were dead at fist, but I suppose your helmet did a good enough job stopping the arrow they tried to put through your head."

That explained the headache. Steel is strong, but an arrow hitting you in the head and knocking you off of a horse can do some damage. It also explained what happened to my weapons and armor. Taken by the fucking Imperials. "Well, then," I said. "To Sovngarde, kinsman."

"Aye," he returned as we passed under the walls of Helgen, more fortified than I remembered it. "To Sovngarde."

The carriage rolled to a stop in a courtyard within the town, and we filed off to stand in front of an Imperial captain and a scribe. "Ralof, of Riverwood!" The Stormcloak I had been talking to stepped forward, then past the scribe to join the others by a chopping block in the middle of the two-towered courtyard. "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm!" Ulfric followed Ralof towards the chopping block. I was the last in the line. "You! Prisoner! Step forward!"

I walked forward standing evenly in front of the scribe. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Hroki Mirasson, formerly of Whiterun Hold," I said.

He frowned at me. I stood a head above him, and he wasn't a short man, probably around six feet tall. "Mirasson? Wasn't there a Mirasdottir who died recently? Owned a farm a few miles outside the city?"

"Aye," I said. "My little sister."

"Little sister?" he said incredulously. "She was in her eighties and you don't look a day over thirty."

"She was my half-sister," I explained. "I was the result of an Altmer deciding to see what strong Nord women were like. Not resistant to their damned mind magic was the answer."

The scribe winced. "I'm sorry it's come to this, kinsman." He turned to the captain. "Captain, he's not on the list. What should we do?"

"Damn the list! To the block with him!" she said. If I got out of this I swear I was going to kill this Imperial bitch.

I moved to join the crowd of prisoners around the chopping block right as the headsman's axe fell on the first Stormcloak. Another Imperial soldier motioned me forward next, and with no other choice I obeyed. The horse thief had tried to run and been shot down for his trouble, so I knew that would accomplish nothing. I knelt at the block right as a strange sound echoed through the sky. Everyone looked around, but seeing nothing continued. The headsman raised his axe, and suddenly a massive, winged lizard landed on one of the two towers that guarded the courtyard.

"FUS RO DA!" the sound came from the beast's throat, like nothing I had ever heard before. The headsman was flung across the courtyard, and I was bowled over by the force of the blast. The only thing that could do that was the Voice, the power wielded by the Graybeards… and dragons.

"Oh, fuck me," I whispered, awed at seeing the first dragon seen in Skyrim in I knew not how long.

"Follow me, Hroki!" It was the Stormcloak from earlier, Ralof as I now knew his name was. "Into the tower!" I ran with Ralof and Ulfric into the tower. They stopped to check on a pair of their wounded, but I took one glance and started up the stairs. I knew not where I would go after that, but I'd be damned if I was going to stand around and wait for that Nines-damned dragon to blow down the tower. Up a second flight of stairs a Stormcloak tugged at rubble that blocked the stairs leading to the top. I was nearly to the landing when the wall was smashed in by the dragon's head, followed by a massive burst of fire that cooked the poor man alive, if the blast of debris hadn't already done the job.

The head withdrew and I moved to the gaping hole. Across the way was what used to be a house or an inn, I honestly couldn't tell which, but the roof was gone and I was certain I could make the jump without hurting myself. I leaped, rolling as I hit. I would have some bruises, but no serious damage. I ran to a hole in the floor, grabbing an exposed beam and dropping down to the lower floor. I sprinted through the town, following soldiers of both armies until I reached the keep. Both the Imperial scribe and Ralof arrived at the same time I did, shouting at each other.

"I can't let you escape, Ralof!" the scribe yelled.

"Shor's beard, Hadvar!" Ralof returned. "You can't stop us. Hroki, are you coming or not?"

I looked at the two of them, then nodded and followed Ralof inside.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two - The Keep and Beyond**

We found ourselves in the middle of a circular room, a small table across the room from the door with a pair of corpses, one Stormcloak and one Imperial on the floor. Gates led off at ninety degrees from where we stood, one with no way through from this side and the other with a hefty padlock. Ralof crossed the room, myself a step behind him, and scooped up a dagger from the table. He cut his own bonds, then turned and cut mine. "Gunjar there won't be needing any of his equipment anymore," he said brusquely. "Nor will the Imperial. Take what you need and let's get moving."

I nodded, then moved to the Imperial and started stripping off his gear, slipping on the heavy breastplate to replace my lost steel gear. The armored skirt came from the bottom, protecting my upper legs, while a pair of greaves attached to boots protected my legs. Finally, a pair of Imperial bracers shielded my arms. I left the helmet. I had always hated having something holding my head down in combat. There was a bow and a quiver of twenty iron arrows leaning against the wall, so I grabbed them and slung them over my back. Finally, the Imperial's Imperial iron sword and sheath went on the left side of my waist. I retrieved a second dagger from Gunjar's corpse and slide its sheath into the swordbelt on my right.

As I finished arming myself, we heard footsteps from the passage that had been to the left of the door we came in through. Ralof ran to the wall on that side, pressing himself against it and peeking around the corner, through the gate. "Imperials coming," he hissed. "How do you want to play it?"

"Follow my lead," I responded. I dragged the Imperial corpse out of sight from the gate they were coming from, the unslung my bow and nocked an arrow, but left it aimed at the floor. The Imperials approached, it was a pair, and as they drew closer I realized it was the cart driver and the captain. I smiled inwardly. A perfect opportunity for a bit of revenge.

The gate clattered open, and they strode through, not noticing Ralof still pressed against the wall since they focused on their apparent ally in the middle of the room. "You!" the captain shouted. "Soldier, come with… wait, you're not…"

She was interrupted when my bow came up as I drew back the arrow, sighted, and fired. The arrow took her through the throat, and she stumbled backwards, clutching at the new addition to her windpipe. I cast aside the bow, ripping my new sword from its sheath and charging at the other soldier. He got his sword up, deflecting my first blow to one side. Unfortunately for him, my off hand had pulled my dagger from its sheath as I charged him, and the small blade found its mark in the weak point of his armor, under the left armpit. The blade broke through the thin leather easily, piercing his heart. As I stepped back, withdrawing the dagger, I saw that Ralof had finished the captain with an axe blow to the back of the neck. I did the same to the soldier in front of me, my sword easily severing the poor bastards spine after a quick slash.

"Check the bodies," I said, "look for a key for the other gate." Ralof nodded and started going through the captain's belt pouches, while I did the same to the soldier I had killed.

After a moment of searching, he held up a key. "Got it! This should open up any doors we run into," he said. I nodded and crossed to the other door, recovering my bow and the arrow from the captain's throat as I did so. The arrow was still serviceable, so I nocked it and stood by the door as Ralof unlocked it. I kept the bow half-raised and the slack drawn out of the string, ready for a quick draw and a quicker shot. We moved into the hallway, following the single trail until we rounded a corner and saw a pair of Imperials standing at the end of the corner. I stepped back quickly, throwing out an arm to drag Ralof back with me before they noticed us.

I raised a hand, two fingers extended, and gestured towards the hall around the corner. Ralof nodded, and I drew a second arrow from my quiver, once again knocking the first arrow and holding the second between the third and fourth fingers of my drawing hand. Then, in one motion, I stepped around the corner, drew, sighted, and loosed the arrow. Right as a tremor shook the hallway, throwing my aim off right as I released the string. Even as I nocked the second arrow, the first careened into a wall, clattering to the floor right before the middle of the roof collapsed, cutting me off from the Imperials and burying my arrow. Shit. I only had nineteen left, and every arrow might count.

The hallway was entirely blocked by the debris, totally impassable. Luckily, there was a door on my side of the hallway, so I slung my bow over my shoulder and drew my sword, slowly pushing the door open. There were three enemy soldiers in what appeared to be a storeroom, and I evaluated my options. I could probably get one, maybe two of them with my bow, but I probably wouldn't be able to switch to my sword before the third got to me, and that was assuming Ralof stalled one of the ones I shot. I could charge like a berserker, a plan that appealed to my Nord heritage. Or I could be smart and get Ralof to watch my back while I attacked. So far the Imperials had been fairly unskilled warriors, but I couldn't assume that was the norm. Plan three it was.

I pulled back from the door and turned to Ralof. "Three Imperials inside. I should be able to take one and distract another if you take the third."

Ralof nodded and hefted his axe. "A solid plan, kinsman," he said. "I'll go first." A wild grin spread across his face as he shoved through the door, raising the iron war axe high as he sprinted at the soldiers, and his chosen foe barely managed to draw his sword out and up in time to block the overhand swing. I followed close behind, sword in hand and my iron dagger in the other. I struck at the Imperial to my right first, my sword swinging in a flat arc that would have carried it through his throat if he hadn't snapped his sword up into a high guard, knocking it to the side. I spun with the momentum of my blade, angling my blade into a cut at the other soldier's legs, and lashed my dagger out at the first soldier, forcing him to abort the strike he was winding up and step back out of the way of the strike. I felt my sword's blade bite into the second man's leg, cutting deep into the back of his calf. I continued the spinning movement started at the first soldier's parry, pulling my dagger back in to my body and then burying it to the hilt in the back of his neck, severing his spinal cord.

With one of them dispatched and the other momentarily forced back, I spared a moment to check on my partner. Ralof was forcing the third soldier back, raining blow after blow on the man while he fell back step by step, his blocks and parries becoming less and less effective as he tired and his arms went numb from the weight of the repeated strikes. I was forced back to my own fight when my remaining opponent rushed me, his sword lowered like a spear and aimed at my stomach. Instead of trying to recover a fighting posture right then from where I stood over his friend's corpse, I simply stepped slightly to one side, allowing the soldier's sword to skate across the iron of the breastplate I wore. Then I stepped in and repeated the strike I had begun the fight with, a flat swing at the neck that he had parried easily the last time. This time he was off balance and over extended, and my blade bit deep, sliding past the base of his helmet and the ridge on his shoulder armor and into the flesh. The edge went through, carving a path through three quarters of his throat, releasing a spray of arterial blood and causing him to topple to the floor.

Ralof's man had rotated and was now coming towards me, still backing away from the frenzied axe. This soldier wore light leather armor rather than the steel of the two I had already slain, so once he was close enough I stepped forward and rammed my sword into his back, piercing through the armor and emerging out the other side. He crumpled, mortally wounded by my strike to his stomach, and was finished when Ralof buried his axe in the soldier's skull. I went back to the men I had killed, and used the cloth tunic under one of their armor to wipe the blood from my sword and dagger, then returned them to their sheaths on my belt. "Take a look around," Ralof called over. "Might be something useful here since it's a storeroom."

"Aye," I responded, then cast about. I found a mana potion and a health potion on a shelf full of alchemy ingredients, three more health potions, another mana, and a stamina potion in a barrel, and one more health on another table with more ingredients. I stuck them all in pouch on the swordbelt, but left the ingredients since I knew nothing about alchemy. Once I was done we went through the second door to the room , depositing us on the other side of the rockfall that had blocked our path. A twist and a turn later and we were looking down a flight of stairs at a battle. Three Stormcloaks fought against a pair of Imperials, one with a shield and mace, and the other with an Imperial sword in one hand and firing lightning blasts from the other. "Malacath's ass," I swore. "A damned spellsword?" I turned to Ralof, who was watching with an angry expression on his face. "I suppose you're going to insist we attack."

He only looked at me, then nodded tightly.

"Very well," I said. "I have the heavier armor, I'll distract the mage and you cut him down."

He grunted, and readied himself to dash in. I waited until the spellsword's back was turned, then charged down the stairs with my sword drawn. My armored shoulder smashed into his back, pitching him forward and forcing him to disengage from the Stormcloak soldier he was pouring lightning into. He rounded on me as I slashed at him, and he faded backward, away from the strike, and launched a bolt of energy that I ducked to the side to dodge and attacked to interrupt the casting. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Stormcloaks who hadn't been half-fried backing the other Imperial into a corner, heavy two-handed weapons pounding on his leather shield. I wasn't sure where Ralof was, but I pressed my attack against the spellsword, pushing him towards the middle of the room. The spellsword was skilled, and faster than I was thanks to the leather armor that left him less encumbered, not to mention that I couldn't read his eyes or face for intent thanks to a hood pulled low over his face. His sword flickered back and forth, in and out, and I was pressed to keep up with his speed thanks to my heavier armor. Our blades crossed and shivered against each other, but he was slowing. Between his mana expenditure, which he continued with occasional blasts at me, and the weight of my blows which he was often forced to block when I had him too pinned to parry he was tiring. Another minute of this and he would fall, while I was still going strong. I had spent eighty years building my strength and endurance, not to mention my Nord heritage meant I was already stronger than most man or mer, barring the Orsimer of course. Finally, just as he was nearly faltering, Ralof was suddenly behind him, and with a single, mighty swing of his axe that beheaded the spellsword.

I stepped back, sheathing my sword. I hadn't managed to land more than minor hit to his armor in the length of our fight, so there was no need to clean it. "Took you long enough, kinsman," I said.

"Had to help out the others. Turns out this torturer scum's assistant was tougher than he looked," he said. And sure enough, when I turned to look the two surviving Stormcloaks were both sitting on the ground, one with an an obviously broken leg, I assume from the Imperial's mace, and the other simply appeared exhausted.

"Fair enough," I said, then started exploring the room. On a table next to a pillar I found a knapsack, and from it I picked up another pair of health potions and a second iron dagger, which went into the pouch and onto the belt respectively. There were also a pair of lockpicks, which I slipped into the pocket on the ragged pants I still wore beneath my armor. A search of the weapons cage in the corner of the room yielded a few septims and another pair of lockpicks. The lockpicks joined the others in my pocket, and the gold went in another pouch on the swordbelt. There was an iron shield hanging on the wall, which I picked up and slung over my back by its strap, where I could easily swing it around and slip it onto my arm.

When I walked back out, Ralof was examining a prison cage, the central one of three. Inside was the corpse of a mage, still wearing robes that looked like a slightly updated version of what I remembered College of Winterhold robes looking like. Next to him was a mana potion, some more septims, and a spellbook. "Anyone know how to pick a lock?" Ralof asked.

The other two Stormcloaks shook their heads, but I stepped forward. "I'm not Thieves' Guild quality, but I can get through most locked things," I said.

"Good," he said. "Some of that may prove useful if you can get at it. I'll scout ahead a little and make sure no one ambushes while you see to that lock."

He started off down the next hallway while I knelt in front of the cage's padlock. A few moments work, and it sprang open, allowing me access. I scooped up the potions and gold, stowing them away, then checked on what the corpse wore. A hood and robes, all of which glowed faintly with some kind of enchantment. I stepped back into the room, grabbed the knapsack from the table, then went back into the cell and stripped the corpse. Even though I may not have a use for it, it was probably worth a pretty penny. I slung the sack over my shoulder, rearranging my bow, quiver, and shield to sit with it. One last look around pointed me towards the corpse of the lightning-cooked Stormcloak. Next to his corpse was an iron greatsword, an inferior version of my preferred weapon.

In my hundred years of life, I had picked up as many martial skills as I could, barring magic, making me proficient with sword, shield, bow, and greatsword. Of all of those, the greatswords capability for blasting through armor and defenses had always been my favorite, especially fighting against lightly armored elves. I couldn't pass up that weapon, so I shucked off all of my weapons and laid them on the floor so I could rearrange it all. First the greatsword went onto my back, the hilt jutting over my right shoulder. Next was the quiver, the straps of which I wrapped around the greatsword's sheath to hold it in place. It was slightly awkward to reach around the hilt for an arrow, but not awkward enough to slow down my draw. I swung my knapsack on over those, pinning them in place once the straps were over both shoulders. It wasn't exactly accessible, but then it didn't need to be. If I needed something out of it, I would just take it off. My shield I fastened to the side of the bag on the left side, arranging the straps so if I gave it a tug it would come free and I could fasten it to my arm. Finally, I hooked my bow over my right shoulder by its bowstring, where the ridge on my shoulder pauldron would hold it in place but I could easily swing it off. I belted my swordbelt back on, the Imperial iron blade hanging from my left hip and the pair of daggers sitting in stacked sheaths on my right, the bottom dagger on the outside and the other resting on my hip.

Now that all of my equipment was settled, I turned my attention to the last item I had taken from the cell: the spell tome, which based on the image on the cover was a Destruction spell. I opened the book out of curiosity, and the first page bore an image of a faceless figure launching lightning from his hands, and a warning.

"_**Beware. Beyond this page lies knowledge arcane of lethal application. Read beyond and and this book shall be destroyed, but the information within shall pass unto you."**_

I stopped and stared at the warning. I had been avoiding learning any kind of magic for decades. My father was a high elf sorcerer. I use father in the loosest terms, since the only thing the bastard ever gave me was extremely long lifespan. The milkdrinker had essentially raped my mother, and I had been doing my best to reject anything related to the bastard my entire life. I had refused to learn magic, not even the most basic healing spells that almost every soldier with the capability did, and I had been killing altmer for years. But now my homeland was at war with itself, dragons had returned, and I had seen the damn high elves with Tullius. It may have been time to set aside my self-imposed restrictions. There was too much to do to set unnecessary limits on myself.

I turned the page of the book, and my vision exploded with light. My head felt like it was splitting open, and I could feel channels of energy running through my body and my head. I could only assume it was my magicka conduits opening up after a lifetime of disuse. The knowledge of how to cast the Sparks spell appeared in my mind, and I could feel energy sparking out of my fingertips. When I came back to myself, I was on my hands and knees in the middle of the floor, panting. A pattern of burn marks dotted the floor by my hands. Looks like I hadn't imagined those sparks. I hauled myself upright and saw Ralof standing in the doorway, staring at me.

"What was that?" he asked.

I had barely recovered my breath, but I had enough to respond. "Magic. Haven't used any before," I told him.

"Aye, that would do it," he said. "I've heard that the first time after shutting it out is always… interesting."

My breath was back, so I hauled myself up against the weight of my weapons and armor. "Shor's bones, man, you couldn't have mentioned that BEFORE I read the bloody spellbook?"

Ralof simply smiled mockingly. "Well, you seem better now. Keep moving?"

"Aye." We started down the hall, down a flight of stairs while Ralof filled me in on what he had discovered scouting ahead.

"There's a large chamber up ahead with four or five Imperials in it, a couple of archers and a couple others."

"Nice and open?" I asked.

"Aye."

"Good. I'll take the archers with my bow, then I'll back you up against the others." We reached the corner and I peeked around. There were platforms around the left edge of the chamber, with a grotto in the middle and bridges connecting the platforms. There was a soldier standing in the water down below, one patrolling the bridges, one standing a fair distance, and a pair of archers by the far wall. I turned back to Ralof and confirmed his count, then outlined the plan in more detail. "One enemy close on the bridges, one far, one below, and two archers on the far wall. Charge when I start shooting."

Ralof nodded, and settled his axe in his hand while he settled into a running stance. I drew a pair of arrows from my quiver, laying one on the string and holding the other between my third and fourth fingers. I raised the bow, taking the slack out of the string, then stepped around the corner. I pulled the string back to my cheek as I sighted on the farther archer, the more difficult shot. Half a second later, I released, and the thrum of the bowstring filled the chamber as Ralof dashed by. I couldn't afford to take the time to see where my arrow hit, so I nocked the second arrow and repeated the action, aiming for the second archer. As soon as that arrow was on its way I drew another arrow from my quiver, laying it on the string and peering out at my handiwork. The first archer lay on the floor, totally unmoving, while the second was just then snapping off the shaft of the arrow buried in his bow arm. I raised and fired a second time, watching the arrow fly in this time, and it struck just below the rim of his helmet, driving into his skull.

My first targets dispatched, I turned my attention to Ralof. He was fighting two of them, while the third climbed a set of stairs that would have him emerge behind my ally. I had sixteen arrows left in my quiver, but Ralof was too close to two of them, and soon the third would be too close to risk a shot as well. However, he was too far to reach in time with my sword. The only thing for it was to use my newfound skill: magic. I called the Sparks spell to my hand surprisingly easily considering I had never done it before. Then I thrust my hand out, willing the lightning to lance out, and it did, taking the Imperial in the middle of the back of his iron breastplate.

The soldier convulsed, every muscle in his body spasming, before collapsing, smoke rising from the corpse. The magic was in my left hand, leaving my right free to draw my sword. So I did, and then I ran for the clump of enemies. Once I was close enough, I raised my hand and fired another lick of lightning at one of the Imperials. The power seemed to sting him more than anything else, and he rounded towards me with his sword raised. He turned just in time to catch my thrust in the stomach, just below his breastplate. The wind left him in a rush, and a look of surprise appeared on his face. Surprise quickly compounded when I laid my other hand on the blade of my weapon and channeled the Sparks spell into it the sword. The leather wrapped around the grip that I gripped prevented the spell from shocking me, but he was blown backwards off of the blade and lay on the ground, unmoving.

The last enemy was laying on the ground, bleeding from several axe wounds all over his body. "Impressive," Ralof said. "I've always wondered if magic was all it was cracked up to be."

I nodded and started walking again. I could feel a strange tiredness stealing over me, obviously the cost of using magic. "Aye, but there's a cost and I can feel it. Let's keep moving."

Those were the last Imperials we saw. We passed through a spider cave on our way out, where I slew three small frostbite spiders with my blade while blocking their poisonous spit with my shield, then dropped both and used my greatsword to slash the legs and split the skulls of a pair of larger ones. After recovering my weapons we ran into a bear, which I killed with a pair of arrows to the eyes and a blast of lightning to finish it off. The arrows were recoverable, and with the arrows I had taken from the quivers of the dead Imperial I was back up to a full twenty count of arrows in my quiver. The tunnel leading off of the bear's cave led outside, finally, dumping us into the sunshine.

We were barely outside when we heard the dragon's cry, a sound that had been burned into my consciousness during the attack on Helgen. We dove for cover, Ralof behind a rock, and myself into a stand of trees. The massive black beast flew over, winging its way I knew not where, not so much as looking down at us. Once it was gone, we cautiously moved back onto the trail. "Looks like the beast is gone. This is Falkreath, an Imperial Hold," he said. "I can't travel by daylight here, I'd be attacked by any guards we see. There's a village just north of here called Riverwood. My aunt runs the mill there, and if you tell her I sent you she'll be sure to help you out. I'll hide out until dark and then make my way there."

We clasped forearms, and then I responded. "Thank you for your help and the offer, Ralof. I'll see you tonight in Riverwood."

"Aye, my friend," he said. "Oh, and if you ever find yourself near Windhelm you should go to meet Jarl Ulfric and Galmar Stonefist. The Stormcloaks could use a warrior of your caliber."

Then we parted, Ralof disappearing into the woods while I headed down the trail in front of me until I hit the main road.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Bandits**

Ralof had disappeared into the trees, and I had only a vague idea of where to head. North, he had said, where the village of Riverwood and his aunt awaited. The first objective was to reach the main road, which a short stroll down the path in front of me accomplished. In front of me stood a stone watchtower, a group of warriors wearing the standard Hold guard's uniform, their grey-blue cloaks and clothing under their chainmail indicating their Falkreath origin. I was dressed in Imperial armor, and Ralof had said that the Empire held sway here, so I approached them. They could probably give me directions, and maybe point me towards somewhere where I could change out my armor.

As I approached, a pair of them noticed and walked out from the tower, moving towards me with their hands on their weapons. A third guard stayed at the tower and unlimbered his bow. All of which was understandable. A bloody dragon had just flown over, and now a man in heavy armor who was extremely heavily armed had appeared out of the woods.

"Hold!" one of the guards shouted. "State your business!"

"Helgen was attacked by that beast that just flew over!" I called back. "I made it into the keep, took weapons and armor from dead Imperial and Stormcloak soldiers just in case, then hoofed it out of there." I had learned to lie smoothly after years of operating on the frontier with Aldmeri Dominion. Their agents may be arrogant, but they aren't stupid and lying to them takes work.

"What was that thing?" the second guard asked. Curiosity had largely replaced hostility, but their hands remained on their weapons, the first gripping an iron battleaxe and the second gripping the hilt of a mace hanging from his belt.

"A dragon," I told them somberly.

"A dragon?" It was the first guard again. "There haven't been dragons in Skyrim in… I don't know how long, but it's been a long time."

I nodded. "Aye. And now they're back. May I pass? I'd prefer to get to Riverwood and get out of the open in case the Ni- the Eight-damned thing comes back," I said.

One of the guards chuckled at my slip. "Aye, you can go. And don't worry about your little slip of the tongue, we all do it."

"Thank you, kinsman," I responded. "I've been out of the area for several years, could you point me in the direction of Riverwood?"

"I can," the second guard said. "Though it comes to mind that there are some bandits in the area we don't have the manpower to pursue, and if you want to pick up some less conspicuous armor without having to pay for it…"

That sounded good to me, as I only had about fifty septims from looting corpses. "I could be persuaded to help you out," I said, smiling at them.

"Excellent," guard number two said. "There's a small camp just west of here, and a mineshaft full of the bastards to the east. Oh, and since you're being so helpful I'll let you know: there's a group of standing stones just down this road if you want to pay your respects."

"You have my thanks, kinsmen," I told them. "I'll get to it, then."

I started walking down the left hand road, headed west towards the bandit camp first. When I started hearing voices, I slipped into the trees by the road and worked my way closer, moving from tree to tree and bush bush. I was no master of stealth, but I had spent enough time ambushing and spying on Thalmor and their pet Bosmer and Khajiit to know what I was doing. Once I was close enough, I lay on my stomach and crawled closer until I could see them.

They were obviously bandits, and there were three of them standing around. One watched the small trail to the road, an iron shield like my own sitting on his arm while a steel sword stayed sheathed at his side. His entire body was covered in iron armor that I would soon be appropriating. The first of the two standing by a fire in the middle of a small circle of tents wore leather armor, and carried a hunting bow and a small steel dagger. The third wore hide armor and carried a steel battleaxe. Three on one, and the three were bandits who would have very little training, not to mention that I could see that all their weapons and armor were in a state of disrepair. The exception was the man in iron armor. His armor was scrubbed until it shone and in good repair. I wanted his armor, so I wanted to avoid damaging it. I withdrew further back into the trees, then came up to a crouch and readied my weapons.

Once I was ready I crept back in, my bow ready. Once I was close enough, I raised, sighted, and fired in one motion, then dropped my bow, drew my greatsword and charged, the sword raised in both hands. As I entered the clearing I saw the sentry on his knees, both hands around the arrow in his throat while he choked on his own blood. The other two were slow to react, and I closed the distance before they managed to get their weapons free. My greatsword cleaved down on the woman with the battleaxe while her hands were occupied trying to free it from the straps on her back. It hit her on the shoulder just left of her neck, and tore through the armor and deep into her torso. I wheeled away from the corpse, leaving the blade buried in it, as some sense told me to move. I had been fighting life and death battles for years, and my soldier's sense was well-honed. An arrow hissed through the space my head had just occupied, and I jerked one of my daggers from its sheath. The archer drew back his bow, sending another arrow flying at me, and I snapped up my armored arm to cover my face. The arrow bounced off, and I charged, drawing my other dagger as I did. I closed on the archer, then swept my left hand back and threw the dagger. I was right-handed and the dagger wasn't weighted for throwing, guaranteeing I would miss my target. But he didn't know that, so he jerked to one side in surprise, slowing his next shot and giving me enough time to slam my knee into his crotch and bury my other dagger in his chest.

I stood in the middle of the campground, three corpses around me that had each been killed in different ways. One with an arrow in his throat, one with a greatsword in a massive slash through her chest, and one with a dagger in his heart. I sighed and collected my weapons, cleaning my bloodied dagger, sword, and arrow before returning them to their sheaths and quiver. Then I started hunting the area around the third body for the dagger I had thrown. After a few minutes I gave it up as a lost cause and turned to the bodies.

The archer's corpse yielded up a steel dagger, a superior replacement for my lost blade. The heavily armored warrior likewise yielded a steel sword, which I used to replace my Imperial iron sword. The archer's hunting bow was also superior to my longbow, so I replaced that as well. Finally, I stripped the iron armor from the corpse that had formerly owned it, and used some cloth I had cut from one of the tents to wrap it up and sling it over my shoulder. I would need to find a blacksmith to adjust it to fit me before it was useful. I had also found another twenty-three septims and a few precious stones I could sell.

I made my way back to the watchtower, waving at them as I came into view. The second guard from earlier came out to meet me. "I take it from the loot that the camp is dealt with?" he asked.

"Aye," I said. "Mind if I leave this armor here while I deal with the mine?"

"Drop it inside," he responded. "Good luck."

I dropped the armor on a table inside the tower, then headed down the path towards the water, where they had said the standing stones lay. There were three of them, ones I remembered from my youth: The Warrior, The Mage, and The Thief. I stood in the middle for a moment, feeling the vibration of energy from the three stones, something I had never noticed before without making physical contact. My new magical abilities seemed to have some interesting extra effects.

The vibration seemed stronger to me around the Warrior Stone, so I stepped forward and laid my hand on it, closing my eyes as I did. As soon as my palm contacted the carved rock, a surge of energy ran through me. I felt… stronger. I felt like my sword would strike harder, and my arrows would hit with more force. I felt a sense of familiarity with my weapons that had been growing since I started training with these types of weapons decades ago expand, not a lot but noticeably. I never would have noticed the change without my new ability to sense energy, but now that I could it was overwhelming. I loved it.

Finally, I stepped back, disengaging from the stone and feeling the strength of the sensation fade. The effects, however, did not. I stood and breathed for a moment, calming myself from the euphoric rush from the energy that had been provided. Once I was once again contained, I turned and headed up the path towards the mine. As I walked, I quickly spotted a trail to one side. I drew my sword, slid my shield onto my left arm, and started up the path. A moment's watch brought me within sight of the mine, and the sentry leaning against a post outside of it. She saw me, and her eyes widened as she opened her mouth and drew the war axe from her hip.

"IMP-" She was cut off by the impact of my shield striking her chest, driving the wind out of her, but that didn't stop her from swiping at my unprotected head with her axe. My shield was otherwise engaged, so I stepped back away from the attack, and she took the space it created to recover. As much as she could while she was laboring to catch her breath. As soon as the axe went by, I stepped back in with a thrust to her chest that would have driven my new steel sword straight through her hide armor and into her heart. She twisted away from it, swiping her axe at me again. This time I caught the blow on my shield and the axe bounced off, the strength of her swing changing direction and pulling her off balance. I showed no hesitation, stepping in and slashing her across the stomach, spilling her guts out onto the ground. When she collapsed face down on the ground, I stabbed her in the back of the neck, severing her spinal cord and killing her instantly. A mercy, rather than the slow suffering death of a gut wound.

The door to the mine wasn't locked, so I slipped inside, sword and shield ready in case her aborted shout had alerted anyone. It hadn't, and I slid down the hall until I felt my foot catch on a tripwire. "Damnit," I growled, and threw myself forward and to the side, just in time as a rockfall that would have crushed me fell where I had stood. I froze in the crouch I landed in, sword and shield held up just in case. Nothing happened. Shor's bones, these bandits were stupid. I started moving again, rounding the corner of the tunnel and facing a bridge that spanned an underground pond. Torches were spaced around the cavern, leaving it well-lit. A ramp to the right and further down the bridge led to a patch of dry ground, where I could hear and see two fur-dressed bandits talking. The other end of the bridge led into another tunnel, and to my left there was a raised section of bridge and an opening that showed a storage area I assumed connected to the tunnel I had access to.

First things first. The two in the chamber needed to die. So I did the natural thing and strolled out onto the bridge like I owned the place, then called down to them, "Well you lot are the sorriest bunch of bandits I've ever seen. One sentry, a trap that made loads of noise that you completely ignored. By Talos, the last time I met someone this stupid it was an orc!"

They had jerked around in surprise at the sound of my footsteps and voice, but surprise turned to rage as soon as I started insulting them. One of them let out a wordless howl, and then they both charged up the ramp and towards where I stood on the other end of the bridge. They both wore fur armor, though one carried an iron sword and shield while the other carried a steel warhammer. The shieldbearer was faster and reached me first. I parried his first swing with my own blade, then slammed my shield into his to knock him back. He stumbled and I lunged, my blade leaving a deep cut in his side as he dodged to the side to avoid the point going through his heart. I was forced to step back and throw up my shield before I could finish him by the arrival of his partner, whose hammer crashed into my shield with the full weight of his swing behind it. The shield vibrated, but held, and while my arm went slightly numb he obviously hadn't expected me to stop his strike cold and was too surprised to react when my sword's edge flicked out and cut his throat. I planted a kick in his gut, and he fell, grabbing for the wound I had inflicted. I had cut deep, severing both arteries and the windpipe based on the blood spray and the fish-out-of-water gasping he was doing. Then the shieldbearer was back, slashing at me in a frenzy, shield all but forgotten. I kept my shield between us, blocking or deflecting each strike. His strikes were many, but they lacked power and it took little effort to neutralize them. Finally he grew tired and sloppy, and I repeated the thrust I had landed on him earlier. This time the blade went straight through his heart, and he toppled.

A quick search of the bodies turned up a couple of lockpicks (I had twenty now), another dozen septims, and a garnet. I moved across the bridge, into the next tunnel. It split in a T, the left leading down to a skeleton and a money pouch, and the right up to the alcove I had seen before. I scooped up the money pouch, adding it to my stash, then turned up towards the alcove. There was nothing there of value, but there was a lever that I guessed operated the raised bridge. I pulled the lever, the bridge dropped into place, and two more bandits ran out onto it. They hadn't noticed me, so I took advantage of that fact and vaulted over the railing towards them.

As I came down I lashed out with my blade, and my momentum and the force of the swing allowed it to cut a bloody swath across the first bandit's chest. He shouted and stepped back, dropping the steel greatsword in his hand, while the second stepped forward with an axe in each hand. Before he could begin swinging them I stepped in and threw a punch with the rim of my shield, striking him in the nose. I heard the cartilage snap, and he stumbled back. I stepped with him and threw an uppercut with the shield, snapping his head back, causing another snap in his neck. He dropped like a marionette with his strings cut. The first bandit had recovered his greatsword. He held it in one hand, the weight propped up on his shoulder while his other arm was pressed against his bleeding chest. I grinned at him wolfishly, then dropped my sword and shield, reaching behind my shoulder and drawing my own greatsword. I spread my legs about shoulder-width and bent my knees, bringing the massive blade into a horizontal guard, the tip pointed at the bandit, all of which brought me into a stance for the style of greatsword fighting I had created.

I was stronger than most people, even other Nords. That's not a boast, merely a fact. I had decided to take advantage of that fact by creating a new way of using the weighty slab of metal we called a greatsword. Most users used both hands and full-bodied swings to devastating effect. Thanks to my higher-than-average strength thanks to my Nord heritage (lots of muscle) and Altmer genetics (stronger than I look), I could swing a greatsword with more dexterity than most managed. This had led to my development of a far more fluid style of fighting with the large blades. I was averagely skilled with sword, dagger, and bow, but all modesty aside I was a master of the greatsword.

The bandit stepped forward, throwing his body into a heavy overhanded swing of his weapon that probably would have split me in two had it landed. Unfortunately for him, his body had telegraphed the strike from the beginning and I had taken a half step to one side. As I did so, I lashed my sword out to the side with my right hand alone, batting the weapon farther away from me. His single arm didn't have the strength to control the sword's momentum, causing him to stumble away from me, while I took the blade back into both hands and continued my sidestepping motion, the momentum of the movement and my own strength allowed me to deliver a blow that cut him cleanly in half at the waist. I was mildly disappointed at the swift end to the little duel, but the wound I had first dealt was probably enough to kill him eventually, so it was small wonder.

I dropped the iron greatsword I had been carrying, intending to change it out for the steel greatsword my opponent had carried. But once I was free of the weight of the sword, I realized that my eagerness to secure new weapons and equipment had left me overburdened. It seemed like I had a moment, so I sighed and began stripping off weapons and gear. My backpack, bow, quiver, and baldric hit the ground, followed by my swordbelt carrying its sword and pair of daggers. My shield was badly damaged, so I tossed it off the bridge and into the pool below. It was honestly one more piece of gear I didn't really need, and easily replaceable the next time I found a bandit to kill.

My iron dagger sheath I removed from its place at my belt, attaching it to the straps on my left shoulder pauldron, hilt down for ease of access. The steel dagger stayed on my sword belt's right side, opposite my steel sword on the left. I hooked the belt back around my waist, cinching it tight against my armor. I strapped my quiver to the steel greatsword I had recovered's baldric, the slid the assembly over my head. My bow I unstrung and slipped into the quiver, and finally I slide my knapsack on so it sat at an angle next to the baldric, not easily accessible but it didn't need to be. I slipped a pair of health potions and a stamina potion into a pouch, which I tied to the back left side of my swordbelt, for ease of access with my offhand. Thus equipped, I turned towards the newly accessible tunnel and made my way deeper into the mine.

The tunnel led to a bend in the cave, around which I could hear movement. I slide my longsword out of its sheath in deference to the tightness of the walls. I rounded the corner moving fast, and cannoned into a woman with a war axe in each hand. The impact tossed her lightly armored body against a wall, and I stepped in with a fast thrust that took her through the chest. She slumped down and quickly bled out when I withdrew the blade. Next to the chair she had occupied until she heard me coming was a gate, which quickly proved itself to be locked. I could see what looked like a treasure room on the other side, so on a hunch I rifled through the corpses' pouches and pockets until I found a key, which proved to provide admittance to the treasure.

There wasn't much in there, about fifty septims and some assorted semi-precious stones. The main item of value was a spellbook. When I picked this one up, the symbols that had been totally unreadable on the Sparks book now twisted in my mind into something I understood. This book taught a spell called 'Clairvoyance', though what exactly that meant I had no idea. I shoved the book into my sack, resolving to find a wizard to give me more detail before learning it. Maybe the Jarl's wizard in Whiterun would be able to help.

Once the treasure room was looted, I continued down the cavern, ignoring another locked cage with nothing in it as I kept walking. The tunnel opened up into a wide cavern, and I dropped into a crouch and pressed against the wall to stay out of sight. I moved to another pillar, on the lip of a short cliff leading to a lower area. A ramp on the left led to a higher area with some chairs and a rope bridge reaching to the right wall of the cavern. Down below was a forge where a bandit worked, and two more were on the rope bridge and the seating area. I withdrew back to the tunnel mouth and extracted my bow from the quiver, restringing it as quietly as I could. Once strung, I drew an arrow and laid it on the string, creeping back to the edge.

I raised my bow, sighting down the arrow at the man at the forge. I let out a breath and released, sending the arrow spinning across the distance between us, finding a home between his shoulder blades. The impact knocked him forward, his knees hitting the low retaining wall and his upper body falling into the forge. The scent of burning flesh began to fill the cavern, and I saw both remaining enemies snap around to look towards the forge. I drew another pair of arrows, loosing two at the nearer of the two targets, the one at the seating area. The first shot hit him in the upper right arm, but the other missed and sparked off the wall behind him. He started charging down the ramp towards me, and at the same time an arrow hissed past my head. I threw myself behind one of the stone pillars, shielding myself from the figure on the bridge, who I now realized was an archer.

I could hear the footsteps of the other enemy drawing closer, so I dropped my bow and drew my steel sword and dagger. Out in the cavern I would be able to swing my greatsword, but on this ledge it was still tight enough that I preferred the shorter, lighter blade of my longsword. The enemy came down the ramp at the run, ducking under a swipe of my blade and launching his soldier into me, knocking off my feet. He followed me to the ground, landing on top of me. He wore leather armor, but iron gauntlets, with which he started throwing punches at my face, leaving the greataxe he carried strapped to his back. I threw my hands up, my weapons fallen from my hands as I hit the ground, to guard my face from his blows. The clang of his iron gauntlets on my Imperial iron filled the cavern, and I knew I needed to find a way out of this before he found a way through my guard or his friend arrived and shoved a blade in me. He had straddled me, counting on his body weight to hold me down, so I suddenly twisted my weight to one side, disrupting his balance. He paused in his blows to catch his balance, and I snapped my right hand up to the iron dagger strapped to my pauldron, slipping it from its sheath and thrusting at his face. He brought his arm around, trying to block in a panic, and deflected the blade down from his face… and directly into his throat.

Blood splattered my face, and he choked on the iron and blood now occupying his windpipe. I reared up, knocking his weakening body off of me, and moved to recover my steel. My dagger was close by, but my sword had fallen off the ledge down to the forge area. I was still concealed from the main cavern by a pillar, and I poked my head around it to check the archer's position. An arrow creased my hair as soon as I did, and I jerked back. The sword would have to wait. Instead I rushed to the next pillar closest to the ramp up to the bridge, narrowly avoiding another arrow along the way. Whoever that archer was, they were significantly better than I was. I wouldn't have come anywhere close to landing those shots, whereas they had barely missed both times. The stone pillar I stood by was right next to the ramp, and I braced myself to run.

I darted out from cover, hard charging up the ramp, ensuring that I juked or hesitated randomly every few seconds. I dodged three more arrows on my way up the ramp, and another skated off my breastplate. As soon as I reached the seating area, I charged for the bridge, my hand not clutching my dagger outstretched as I sent the Sparks spell's lightning arcing out in front of me. The archer, an Argonian female, stiffened as the lightning struck her, every muscle in her body spasming as the energy coursed through her. I stopped the lightning as I reached her, seconds before my magicka reserves ran out, and I stabbed the dagger into one of her large, reptilian eyes. The archer crumpled, and I sat back for a moment, catching my breath. The fight with the two bandits, in its entirety probably took less than five minutes, but it felt like it had been hours.

I allowed myself time to recover, then set about stripping corpses and looting their stash. Nothing was recoverable from the smith's body, as by the time I got back to it it had fully caught fire. The first bandit yielded nothing other than a few septims, and the archer a few more, as well as some iron arrows to replace the three I had lost, one in the burned smith and two broken shooting at the first bandit. A small, secondary treasure room off of the seating area yielded a few more gemstones, as well as a decent amount of septims. My iron dagger I recovered from the corpse of the bandit I had wrestled, and my sword from the smithy area. The fall had resulted in a couple of notches in the blade, but luckily a grindstone and some supplies by the forge allowed me to smooth them out and resharpen it to a razor's edge. Both weapons were returned to their sheaths, then I recrossed the bridge and made my way out of the rear entrance of the mine.

**A/N: Hey guys, it's been forever since I updated this, sorry about that. Been busy and working on multiple writing projects, most of which haven't been posted yet and may never be at the rate they're going. Hope you enjoy, and hopefully the next chapter will be up sooner rather than later.**


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